The atmosphere inside Mayonaka's Sweets shifted from sugary sweet to pure steel the moment Daisetsu saw that photo. The gang wasn't just lurking in the shadows anymore; they were practically inside their home.
"I'm not leaving," Daisetsu said, his voice as flat and hard as a marble countertop.
Yasuo, still trembling from the sight of the "Sweet but Fragile" note, looked up at him. "What do you mean? You have a job, Daisetsu. You have a life at the school."
"My life is wherever I can keep an eye on you," Daisetsu countered. He didn't even look at Yasuo; he was already checking the locks on the windows, his movements sharp and efficient. "They know you're my weakness now. I won't give them a second chance to touch you."
Grandma Mayonaka stepped into the kitchen, her eyes sharp as she looked at the crumpled photo in Daisetsu's hand. She didn't panic. She just sighed and pointed upstairs. "The spare room futon is still made. Yasuo, go get the extra pillows. It's going to be a long night."
Yasuo's heart did a triple-flip. A sleepover? With him? In this tiny apartment? This is craziee....
An hour later, the shop was locked down like a fortress. Upstairs, the apartment felt smaller than usual. Daisetsu's presence seemed to fill every corner. He was too tall for the low ceilings, and his broad shoulders made the narrow hallway look like a toy set.
"You can take the bed," Yasuo said, pointing to the spare room. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"No," Daisetsu said, stepping into Yasuo's personal space. He had changed into a simple black tank top and grey sweats, looking relaxed but dangerously powerful. "The couch is too close to the door. I sleep there. You stay in your room."
"But—"
"No 'buts' huh-uh...Yasuo. It's for your safety." Daisetsu looked down at him, his dark eyes softening just a fraction. "And besides... I want to be close enough to hear if you even breathe funny and hear you snort heh..."
Yasuo turned a shade of pink that would put a strawberry tart to shame. "Fine. Whatever. Just... don't complain if the couch is too short for your giant legs."
Yasuo retreated to his room, but he couldn't stop thinking about the man just a few feet away. He tried to distract himself by reading a new chapter of a BL novel on his phone, but the words blurred. The real-life bromance happening in his living room was way more intense than anything on a screen.
Around midnight, Yasuo couldn't take it anymore. The silence was too loud. He crept out of his room to get a glass of water, trying to be as quiet as a mouse.
He stopped in his tracks. Daisetsu wasn't on the couch.
He was standing by the window, the moonlight catching the hard lines of his jaw and the terrifyingly beautiful scars on his back. He looked like a guardian deity—or a demon waiting for a fight.
"Can't sleep?" Daisetsu's voice was a low rumble in the dark.
"I... I wanted water," Yasuo whispered.
Daisetsu turned around. The moonlight hit his chest, and Yasuo felt his throat go dry. He wasn't just "fit"; he was carved out of granite. Every muscle was defined, a testament to the "Wounded Soul" who had fought too many battles alone.
"Come here," Daisetsu said, beckoning him.
Yasuo walked over, his feet bare on the cool floor. He stood next to Daisetsu at the window, looking out at the quiet street. The black car was gone, but the feeling of being watched remained.
"I'm sorry," Daisetsu said suddenly.
Yasuo blinked. "For what?"
"For dragging you into this. You were just a baker. You were supposed to be safe." Daisetsu reached out and rested his hand on Yasuo's shoulder. His palm was huge and hot, the weight of it grounding Yasuo instantly. "You're so small, Yasuo. So soft. I feel like I'm going to break you just by being near you."
"I'm not as fragile as that note says," Yasuo said, finding a sudden burst of courage. He turned to face Daisetsu, looking up into his intense eyes. "I brought you inside when you were bleeding, remember? I'm the one who patched you up."
Daisetsu stared at him for a long beat. Then, he did something that made Yasuo's heart stop. He reached out with his other hand, cupping Yasuo's face. His thumb traced the line of Yasuo's lower lip, a slow, possessive gesture that felt like fire.
"You're right," Daisetsu whispered, leaning down. Their faces were inches apart. "You're not fragile. You're the strongest thing in my life right now."
The tension was so thick it was suffocating. Yasuo could feel the heat radiating off Daisetsu's body. He wanted to close the gap, to feel that "Stoic Protector" hold him tight.
Daisetsu's gaze dropped to Yasuo's lips, his pupils blown wide. He leaned in just a fraction more, his nose brushing against Yasuo's.
"Daisetsu..." Yasuo breathed, his hands instinctively reaching up to grip the fabric of Daisetsu's tank top.
Daisetsu froze. He let out a shaky breath and pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against Yasuo's. "I shouldn't. Not while you're scared. Not while I'm supposed to be protecting you."
"I'm not scared when I'm with you," Yasuo confessed, his voice bold and clear in the dark.
Daisetsu groaned, a low, guttural sound. He didn't kiss him, but he pulled Yasuo into a tight, crushing hug. He buried his face in Yasuo's neck, breathing in the scent of flour and vanilla.
"One night," Daisetsu muttered into his skin. "I'll stay in your room. On the floor. Just... let me be near you tonight."
Yasuo nodded, his face buried in Daisetsu's hard chest. He could hear the teacher's heart racing—just as fast as his own.
They spent the rest of the night in Yasuo's room. Daisetsu lay on a sleeping bag on the floor right next to Yasuo's bed. He reached up and held Yasuo's hand as they drifted off to sleep, their fingers entwined in the dark.
It wasn't the +18 scene Yasuo's manga had promised, but the intimacy was deeper than anything he'd ever imagined...
The next morning, Yasuo woke up to the smell of coffee and... silence.
He reached out, but the sleeping bag next to his bed was empty.
He rushed into the living room, heart in his throat. Daisetsu was gone. But on the coffee table was a small, hand-drawn map of the school and a note written in Daisetsu's sharp, elegant handwriting:
"I'm ending this today. Stay with Grandma. Don't come to the school no matter what you hear."
Underneath the note was a single, spare key to a locker. Locker 402.